We Are Never Getting Back Together
by Slytherin Cat
Summary: A break-up fic for Draco and Hermione, because sometimes things just don't work out alright. Based on the song from Taylor Swift.


I actually don't really know what to think of this… I don't really like Dramiones, but breaking them up was harder than I thought it would be…

So, this was written as part of the Taylor Swift 'Red' Challenge, for the song 'We Are Never Getting Back Together' and for the Greek Mythology Competition for Zeus on the HPFC.

Please review!

**We Are Never Getting Back Together**

It was the evening after one of her hardest days and she was finally coming home, to her fiancé. A storm had clearly been brewing outside all day and had Hermione possessed powers over the weather she would have thought it was a reflection of her bad temper. It seemed that every time she stopped focusing in her work she could hear the thunder cracking outside and that as the hours passed by the storm was coming closer.

She had been fortunate enough to be accepted as an Unspeakable after she had finished her Hogwarts' education, and she really loved her job no matter how long her days were in the Department of Mysteries. Draco Malfoy, with who she had fallen in love with during her last year of school – it had quickly turned out that Ron wasn't the one she wanted to spend her life with – wasn't always happy about that but since his job gave him pretty odd hours too he couldn't really complain because at least hers were the same each week.

They had been together for five years now – she almost couldn't believe she had spent so much time with the boy she swore she hated (except he wasn't a boy anymore, no he was a man and he was different. Or was he?) – but lately their couple had been faltering.

Anyway, it was a pretty normal Tuesday night and she was getting back home (she had managed to convince Draco when he had proposed to move in in a Muggle's neighborhood but a simple Notice-Me-Not ward took care of any magic they used inside or when they Apparated if they took care to land on the porch). She had chosen not to Apparate though and was now regretting it dearly because the sky had of course chosen this moment to open up and drench her in cold water.

This had of course not improved her already dark mood but it also made her even more eager to get home and cuddle up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate and her boyfriend turned fiancé. He hadn't been kind on doing this sort of thing _before_. He was closer to her, kinder now, and though that was really pleasant, it always left a sour aftertaste to know her fiancé wasn't confident enough (I himself or in them) to behave normally.

She had been in love with Draco the Slytherin and that man had made a mistake. When she had told him she would give him another chance, she hadn't mean for him to change completely who he was and when she had told him he had to deserve her forgiveness it wasn't supposed to be taken as an order to become someone else.

If anything she had the feeling that he was pushing himself away from her instead of closer as he had planned when he had asked for her hand. His plan, she knew it, had been to prove to her that he was serious when he said he'd do anything to earn her forgiveness and that his small 'affair' had been of no consequence.

The last six months had been hard but she had eventually forgiven him. She thought everything would go back to normal after this but things had changed and she wasn't really sure she liked it.

Sighing, she wiped her feet on the mat and opened the door. Once inside, she dried herself quickly with a swift spell and moved to put her keys on the table.

"Draco? I'm home!" She wasn't sure he'd be there, because he had told her he had a lot of things to do, but she called for him just in case.

As expected, only silence answered her. She moved to the bedroom in order to change her clothes, which even if they weren't soaked anymore, still felt cold and slightly wet to her.

As she went through her wardrobe to find clothes that would fit her intention to settle on her comfy couch, she caught a glimpse of something shiny in her husband's part of the wardrobe. Now, she wasn't usually one to snoop in what didn't belong to her, but they were soon to be married and what was his would soon become hers then… So it wasn't snooping, right?

She retrieved from under one of his carefully folded shirt a little package wrapped in silver paper. It was a reflection of the light - she had turned it on - on this paper that had caught her eye. It was a small squared box, and if not for the folder paper on it, she would have thought it was for her.

_For Angelica,_

_I hope to see you soon,_

_Love Draco._

Had she really been that stupid to believe he could have changed? Or maybe it was her fault; she should have been more present, made more efforts like he did. She fell on the bed and time seemed to slow around her as her world crashed down around her.

'Love Draco'. She hoped against reason that this didn't mean anything, that it was just a stupid and terrible mistake, but his handwriting was unmistakable and the wording reminded her of the small missives he used to send her at the beginning of their relationship, when it hadn't really been accepted and when they were so young they had preferred to keep it hidden, a secret – their secret – they would never reveal. Of course in the end they had had to, but it hadn't really been by choice, more like they had been caught snogging in a broom closet.

She had been happy at that time. She wiped tears she hadn't felt falling when suddenly a realization hit her. It was harsh, it was cold, and _oh how it hurt_, but it was true in a liberating way. How long had it been since she had felt this happy with him, since she had felt being in his arms would be enough for her if the world ended tomorrow, since she had truly loved him?

Too long. Way too long. It seemed clear to Hermione now that they had been trying to save something that had already been lost a long time ago, even before he had cheated on her – she had always wondered why she hadn't been as hurt and bothered by this as she thought she would be if her boyfriend ever slept with another woman.

That didn't stop her from being invaded by a cold fury at the moment she realized this though. If there was a problem in their couple, Draco should have the courage and the decency to come and tell him that face to face. Acting like he wanted them to become something again – hell he had asked her to marry him and she had said yes – only to cheat on her again two months before the aforementioned marriage wasn't how a 'gentleman' should behave (Draco like to think he was one, and for a while Hermione had believed him but now she was quite disillusioned).

Instead of being faithful like he had told her he would be, he was once again going behind her back and keeping secrets from her. Secrets had been what had destroyed them in the first place – she couldn't talk about her job and he couldn't talk about his. Weeks after weeks, months after months, years after years they had ended up not talking anymore, and she believed that it was then their couple had truly fallen out.

But it wasn't because she realized only now that they weren't working how they thought they were that cheating on her wasn't wrong. In fact, it made it even worse in her eyes, because this time she knew he probably had as little feeling for her as she has for him and yet he had proposed and still went to find another woman after this.

It hurt and she really didn't know what to do. Or rather she did but for the first time in a long time she wasn't sure about whether or not she should do it. It was a battle between her reason and her blind anger.

In the end her rage overpowered her reason and with a large circle of her wand, she assembled all her ex-future-husband stuff in the middle of their house. Another gesture and everything was neatly packed – she had learned not to use words for her spells long ago, and doing this kind of thing required more intent than magic anyway since what she was doing was nothing more than a less precise Accio.

She dumped everything outside under the rain. She didn't know when he would come back from wherever he was – was he even at his work? – but she wasn't going to be here when he came back. She didn't intend to stay here any longer.

Another wand move and her own necessities were ready. She remembered that Mrs. Weasley had offered her a place to stay if things ever didn't work out with Draco – at the time it was probably because everyone thought they wouldn't last a month – and that she kept doing so each time she went to the bi-monthly family dinners.

She would be welcomed there and she could always return to her old place later, when she found someone to help her move her stuff back to it because there was no way she was going to live in this big house all by herself.

She just left a short message pinned on the door and the box she had found on an otherwise empty table inside – actually the whole room seemed empty now, but that ensured that he wouldn't be able to miss her 'message'. She knew he would understand what had happened from her letter only, but she just wanted to make her point really clear.

Magic was really useful in this case, because it allowed her to change the lock without needing to call a locksmith. Draco would of course be able to open the door after a few minutes but this was more symbolic than anything else, because magic would also give him the power to open the door without his key like they usually did.

Spinning on her feet, she vanished with her bag from the house and reappeared at the Burrow. Of course, the Weasleys still had wards around their house and so she Apparated at approximately ten minutes (by feet) of the Burrow.

She was fortunate enough that even though it was already dark outside (and of course it still rained, but less here than in London) it was less than eight in the evening. Molly and Arthur would still be awake and knowing Molly like she did she would be able to eat with them.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door. She heard ruffling inside and someone, most probably Arthur, knocked something to the ground because she heard Molly shout at him to be more careful with his stuff. The door opened almost immediately after and she was faced with the plump figure of her second mother – Molly always had this effect on anyone she met (except Draco but even with him she wasn't mean, more like a bit suspicious and cautious).

"Hi Mrs. Weasley. Can I come in?"

If Molly saw the trunk Hermione was carrying, she didn't show it though her eyes were softer than usual as she hurried Hermione inside and toward the fire to warm herself. With her long awaited mug of hot chocolate and sitting in the soft couch Hermione found herself telling everything to the woman she considered like her second mother.

**~o~o~**

When Draco Apparated to the porch of the house he shared with Hermione, his future wife, this evening he knew something was wrong even before he saw the message pinned on the door and before he realized that all his clothes – _and was this his toothbrush?_ – were littered on the muddy floor and that it was still raining on them.

The one thing that told him something was wrong was the fact that no light was on inside and that he couldn't smell anything coming from the kitchen like he usually could. And the silence; Hermione never was able to turn off the radio or the TV she had bought when she was home.

He took a step back and he then noticed everything else. If he had worried for a few seconds before, he felt guilt eating at him when he saw his stuff under the rain and the white piece of paper pinned on the door.

Before going out with her, he hadn't really known that feeling, but in the last year, in the last few months it had been his almost constant companion. He had never thought he would be one to cheat on – even though his parents had never been in love, he knew they would never have dreamed to cheat on each other, and cheating was usually scorned upon in the magical world.

He knew he had been in love with the Gryffindor at the beginning, back in Hogwarts and even after when they had moved in together a while ago. Everything had been easier then and they saw each other often – they could talk too. Draco realized that the lack of communication had been hard on them.

He had been at a congress in France for his job – he was a liaison for the new Minister in other countries, a well-known and respected politician – and celebrating his success on a new amendment. He had been there for five long months, and though France may seem close to England Draco had actually been unable to communicate with his girlfriend (the term didn't sound right but he had no other in mind. She was more than a lover and not his wife…) due to incompatibilities in the Floo systems.

Had he been in England, he would have been able to use a fireplace, and he even would have been able to come home each night. However the French's Floo system was too different from the English's and while it worked more or less the same way for calls in the country but it was impossible to call outside of it. So he couldn't go back to his home the way he normally would because the only way to go back to England was via a Portkey and those were closely guarded. The only way to get one was to have a good reason to go abroad, and apparently the one responsible for their creation didn't consider "to see my girlfriend" as a good justification.

They had only been able to use owls to communicate and though in the beginning it had reminded them of happier time – Hogwarts, when they had just decided to try and be a couple in secret – it hadn't taken long for him to begin to send shorter messages and her to take more time to reply.

Their missives had become colder, less like the ones between two people in love and more like two good friends. It had happened so gradually and yet so fast that Draco never saw it coming and when he realized that things had changed he was so overcome with guilt – he should have done something more, tried other things – that he ended up drunk in some bar in a town he had never seen.

He woke up that morning in the bed of an unknown woman and he realized he had never felt so bad in all his life, but also that it had been a while since he had felt so good. He still had had two months in France before he could go back to his home country and though he never saw that woman again (he never learned her name either) he spend nonetheless those two months in the arms of another woman than Hermione.

Two months. Why had it surprised him that she had immediately known what he had done? His mother had always seemed to have an unnatural instinct and knew each time he did something he shouldn't have. It seemed it was a woman trait because one look from Hermione and he had confessed to everything.

He had regretted it at that moment, everything he had done that had undoubtedly hurt her even though he hadn't felt anything but guilt when he had been away – never regret and even his guilt had lessened over time. Those regrets and the 'something' he saw in the bushy haired witch's expressive eyes had pushed him to try and redeem himself.

The feelings he had thought lost that she had reawakened in himself had been enough to make him ask her hand in marriage. It had also – and he admitted it freely – been a way for him to come back in her favors.

However that spark hadn't been enough and for the last months he was sorely regretting his decision, because he didn't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage and also because he had come to know the clever witch well in those years spent together and he knew she deserved more than that.

He knew he should have told her, cancelled the wedding… Done something else than go and find once again another woman with whom he could feel like he once did. When he was younger and still that little boy who always cried for his father to solve his problems, he hated the word coward, and he despised the fact that people so easily associated it with him.

Now though, he felt it was deserved. He was a coward. It wasn't that he feared his (future?) wife's anger or even the press mockeries at the Malfoy's heir extramarital adventures. He didn't really care about that, not anymore. No, what he feared was being alone because though things hadn't been perfect – not in a long time - with Hermione it was still a comfort to come home and have someone waiting for you, to be able to talk and just be with someone who didn't use him only for his money and name.

This comfort was the thing he didn't want to lose and the reason why he had hide from the clever witch that he had another lover. But now as he stood in the rain, trying to gather his belongings – because of course the woman had charmed them against magic, or maybe she had charmed the area – he knew he should have broken up the engagement a long time ago.

His key melted when he put it in the keyhole and if the message hadn't been enough he would he have known from that only that Hermione never wanted to see him again.

_Don't contact me again. Don't try to talk to me, to see me or to send me a message. If I see even your shadow it'll be too soon._

_Just leave me alone, it'll be better for everyone. Sell the house, keep it, I don't care, as long as I never hear from you ever again. Please Draco, do this for me._

_I think a fresh start would be the best thing for the both of us._

He couldn't say he had been expecting this but now he realized it had been bound to happen for quite a while. If they had one day been perfect for each other, he should have known they were too different in the end – or maybe too similar – for it to last forever.

Fortunately she hadn't charmed the door and so a simple wave of his wand managed to open it. He saw the wrapped necklace on the table and felt like hitting himself. He should have guessed she'd find it.

Well, there was nothing he could do now to fix this – could it even be fixed? It was late and he still had to dry everything he owned the Muggle way – after washing them, still the Muggle way. He had always wondered why she had invented spells to stop magic from acing on some objects. Now he knew.

**~o~o~**

He never managed to fix what they had done. Though he went to see her friends – and wasn't the fact that he voluntarily went to see _Weasleys _and _Potters_ a proof of how serious he was about this?

If Potter and his wife had been quite happy to help him in the beginning, as soon as Hermione told them not to talk to him, they sent him a sympathetic smile and closed their doors. The Burrow's door remained close from the moment Mrs. Weasley saw his face.

No matter what he did, he never saw her again. After a few weeks, he discovered she was right and that being parted was the best thing for them. That didn't stop him from feeling a small pang in his heart each time he saw bushy hair in the corner of his eyes or when his new girlfriend's eyes were a bit too brown.


End file.
